The Gentleman's Game
by Ken Giovanni
Summary: At the expense of Miria's Sanity, Galatea entertains herself. Fluff for days and Yuri as well. A series of oneshots of Galatea's life with Miria in a large countryside estate.
1. Chapter 1

The Gentleman's Game

A Claymore-centric FanFic by Ken Aurborum Giovanni

For centuries it has been a tradition for the eldest male of a military family to design and carve his very own chess board and pieces. Yet this tradition has been broken, not in the sense that it has stopped but now the eldest of the such a military family is now a woman. A highly decorated captain nonetheless.

Miria sat in her study examining the chess board she made all those years ago. Carved of yew and designed in a Celtic warrior theme, the chess pieces sat in the case waiting for Miria to shine them to their former glory. She admired the craftsmanship of the set, the carvings very detailed for a 16 year old. Each angle of the claymore the knights wielded was clearly visible along with the hilts of the daggers which were wielded by the pawns. In childlike anticipation Miria opened the door to her study then proceeded to run down the stairs to the garage where she keep the cleaning solvents. She picked a familiar yellow airsol canister which contained a lemon scented wood polish. She quickly ran back up the stairs to her study and slammed the door shut, then as another counter measure against a certain blonde she locked the door as not to be harassed by her (IE Galatea who was naturally clingy and annoying though affectionate).

She then whisked herself to her bookshelf which contained many a record. Unable to contain her smile she selected a Cole Porter record and popped it onto her grandfather's record player. The distinct styling of Cole Porter now emanated throughout the room, and with that Miria sat herself upon a large leather armchair and started dusting and polishing her pieces.

Meanwhile in the backyard Galatea grew weary of sipping iced tea and staring at the seas of rolling hills which surrounded the estate.

"Clare?"

"What do you need Gala!" Clare called from the kitchen.

"What's Miria doing?" Asked Galatea who had a look of utter boredom gracing her angelic face.

"In her study, where else would she be?"

"Yeah, but what is she _doing_,"

"I have no idea, but she locked her study so good luck trying to find out,"

"I have my ways," Smirked Galatea who was now walking upstairs to Miria's private study.

Clare shook head head and returned her attention to the cake she was baking.

The door being locked, Galatea had no point of entry, even the windows were locked (probably caused by an incident caused by none other than Galatea herself). She gave a soft chuckle remembering the sight of Miria's face when she found Galatea dressed as a robber out side her window, hanging by a rappel.

Galatea huffed and proceeded to her desk inside her room. In the locked compartment she kept a duplicated study key that she had "permanently borrowed" from Miria. She quietly tiptoed to the study and inserted the key. She twisted it's metal rod and pushed the door open slightly.

"Miria looks so peaceful when she's up here, I have to do something about that," Thought Galatea who was all the while smirking

Miria happened to be sitting in an over stuffed leather armchair which probably was a large factor to her current slumbering state. Galatea smiled upon her luck and decided to watch her for a few moments . She enjoyed the sight of the sleeping captain. She look the same in her wake as in slumber. Calm and collected, showing no signs of discomfort. Her bangs fell down messily over her eyes which Galatea proceeded to part so she could take a clear look at her face. Though childish was her actions she couldn't she couldn't help but smile at her luck.

She was something else, Miria was. So thought the Galatea. Maybe that was why she felt in necessary to sit herself on top of the slumbering captain.

"What the hell!" Miria squeaked under Galatea's weight.

"Hey Miri!" Galatea said cheerfully.

"Dammit, what the HELL Galatea?"

"Love you!" Galatea swiftly kissed her cheek and ran out the door.

"Damn woman..."

Miria took a moment to collect her thoughts and wonder what just happened to her. She waved it off and reached for her king, which happened to be missing. Suddenly it all clicked.

"GALATEA!" She yelled after the blonde and ran out of her study at mach 5.

Galatea was running as fast as she could, dodging furniture, dogs, rugs, doors. She then stopped to catch a breather only to find that Miria was gaining on her. She then ran outside the door into the vast rolling hills which was considered the backyard.

"Dammit! Come back here Gala!"

"Gotta catch me first, Dearest Miri," Galatea giggled and quickened her pace.

Miria, now fueled by utter annoyance, ran after her out the door.

"Tch, children," Clare scoffed after both rowdy blondes were not in the vicinity.

Miria saw Galatea run into the shed and slowed down her pace. She was cornered now, no where to run. Yet Miria was unprepared for what was to come next. As she approached the opened shed door, she was pushed in an landed on a pile of linens. Miria huffed at her predicament. Galatea's form now clinging on tightly to her.

"I swear what am I going to do with you," Miria sighed.

"Com now, what's life without fun? Besides, all day everyday, you're stuck inside that study of yours. You gotta have a little fun once in a while."

"And making me run all this way is fun?"

"Well, it depends? How do you feel right now?"

"You get under my skin," Miria sighed.

"Why don't you _fly me to the moon_?" Galatea said suggestively.

"Wait...what...oh...No! Your such a perv," Miria said, getting up.

"Wait! Come back here!" Galatea laughed while pulling Miria back down on top of her.

"Kidding, just stay here a while," Galatea kissed the top of Miria's forehead.

"You know, I did miss this," Miria sighed contently, laying beside Galatea on a bed of dusty linens.

"Told you so, love," Laying her head in the crook of Miria's neck.

They remain laying down until the sun had set. Content and peaceful, dreaming and talking, living. It is one thing to live but it is another to experience life.

They walked back into the Prairie Mansion and were greeted with a snickering crowd.

"Had fun in the shed?" Deneve asked.

"It was pretty quiet , you sure it was fun?" Asked a smirking Helen

"I'm going to bed," Said Miria with a sulking expression.

"And me as well!" Galatea chimed in and gravitated towards Miria's arm. Instantaneously, wolf whistles and jeers flew across the room.

"What am I going to do with you," Miria Said to a sleepy Galatea who was nestled in the crook of her neck.

"Anything you want,"

"Perv!" Miria pushed Galatea away, but to no avail was she successful.

Author's Note: Yes Galatea is a bit too bubbly, but love is a crazy thing. Anywhoo, I hope you saw those Frank Sinatra allusions. If not, too bad. Well Remember, Reviews are loved and welcomed (IE please review!)


	2. Chapter 2

_The Girl From Ipanema_ written by Ken Aurborum Giovanni

Pull, click, push, click, squeeze, bang.

As Miria cycled the bolt action rifle she reveled in it's sound. The way the bolt would catch and prime the firing pine, the way the next cartridge was pushed into the breach, the way the shell ejected from the breach and fall to the ground with a harmonious ping. It was a beautiful symphony of modern engineering.

Miria took aim down the iron sights of her trusty Kurz Karabiner 98 (shortened as Kar98k). She set her sights steady as she felt a moderate wind flow across her face. She compensated for said wind and adjusted her sighting to compensate for the distance of 500 kilometers. Seeing as she was using low velocity ammunition, which would pack less of a punch yet soften the muzzle blast (which Galatea greatly appreciated), she has to compensate more so than using regular ammunition. She squeezed the trigger and the recoil surged through the stock and into her awaiting shoulder. She counted 3 seconds and heard a satisfying ping on a steel plate target adorned with a bright red bulls eye.

Miria sat back in her armchair and enjoyed the view of the balcony. The glory of earning an estate so large and off the beaten path was that she could do close to anything and not one neighbor was there to give a damn about it. So, with a few trips to the local hardware store she constructed a shooting range in her own backyard.

She took a sip of the earl grey tea that was placed beside her on a table. She loved earl grey yet detested the fact the a "lady" grey existed as a decaffeinated version of her favorite tea. She thought it incredibly sexist to associate a proper woman with a mild mannered, virtually bleak beverage. Nonetheless she took the rifle in her hand and examined it. The staining of the wood was absolutely stunning and the metal work, though mass produced, was incredible and reliable. She also appreciated the fact the the waffen death head (a Nazi Germany firearms branding) was still present, adding to the historical value of such a piece. She set the rifle down and took to her tea once more.

All of a sudden there was a sharp stinging on the side of her head. Miria turned to the right to see Galatea holding an airsoft rifle and waving at her.

"Two can play at that game love!" Miria yelled across at the other balcony.

"Miria dug in her study for her own airsoft rifle. She rushed outside and took aim but to her surprise Galatea was no longer there.

Suddenly a certain blonde appeared right next to her on the balcony and tackled her into the arm chair.

"Oh Captain my captain!" Galatea said playfully while nuzzling Miria's neck.

"How the devil did you get up here?" Miria said in slight irritation and surprise.

"I climbed the balcony of course! It took you a good 45 seconds to find that gun of yours" Galatea replied matter-of-factly.

"You are such a show off," Miria deadpanned.

"You know I only show of for you though, love" Miria blushed at the comment, "You're cute when you're flustered" Galatea giggled.

"Shouldn't you be tending to the garden?" Miria asked, exasperated.

"You are so sexist," Galatea flicked Miria's nose.

"Ouch! That actually hurt!"

"What did you expect, love? A peck on the cheek?" Galatea said with a cheeky grin.

"You should get off, I can't seem to feel my thighs," Miria sighed.

"Good! Maybe you'd learn your lesson!"

Having none of this nonsense today, Miria lifted Galatea bridal style and carried her out of her study (which was easier said than done because Galatea, according to Miria, weighs more than she looks).

"Stay," Commanded Miria as she shut her study door.

Miria came back not 40 seconds later holding the empty tea cup.

"Let's go for a walk," Miria said.

"Oh, I get it! Am I your little puppy now? You have such a fetish for domination," Galatea said slyly.

Galatea's comment didn't go unnoticed by the other house mates.

"Did I just hear Miria likes to dominate, in bed?" Helen called from the sofa in the living room.

"I could imagine that a ball gag is involved in this," Snickered Deneve who was focused on restoring a vintage radio.

Miria sulked and dragged the giggling Galatea out of the front door.

"We're gonna go to the garden, be right back"

"Have fun you crazy kids!" Helen called after them.

The walk to the garden was under 2 minutes seeing as it lied in the shadow of the mansion. Inside it's classic picket fence walls lied various assortment of herbs, aromatics, roots, and buds.

"I think we ought to have something light today," Said Galatea.

"Can't we just go out to eat or have left overs tonight?" Sighed Miria who was heading for the wine cellar.

"Cheese and crackers with antipasti?" Galatea offered.

"Sounds good, I'll be back!" Called Miria who was now several meters away.

"Where do you think you're going, madam?" Galatea asked.

"Wine cellar!"

The wine cellar was a smaller seperate building to the east of the mansion. A small shed sat on top of the small trap door covering the entrance. Miria entered the locked shed, flipped the light switch for both upper and lower portions and proceeded down the trap door. She ignored the various aging wines and dove straight for the bottle of Absinthe that was placed inside a china cabinet, she also made sure to grab 2 absinthe spoons and 22 absinthe glasses.

Meanwhile Galatea was back in the Mansion kitchen slicing various cured meats and cheeses all the while getting looks from the other house-mates.

"Is that for us?" Helen asked, still sitting on the sofa.

"No,"

"For who then"

"Nobody," Galatea replied coyly.

"Pfft, Fine! Suit yourself," Helen said turning back to her television program.

"Adieu!" Galatea said with a small smile, as she climbed the stairs and went into Miria's study.

She was soon followed by Miria who was now pouring the green spirit into each of the glasses.

"Ready?" Miria asked.

"Sugar cube please," Galatea said, reaching for an absinthe spoon.

She placed the cube on top of the perforated spoon and slowly trickled water on it from a jug, Miria did the same. As soon as the water made contact the green drink now became cloudy and opaque.

"Drunk before eleven in the morning? We are such ideal citizens," Galatea joked.

"Not yet, we need some music!" Miria placed her drink down and walked to the record player. She selected a Tom Jobim record and carefully placed the needle on the groove.

"_Tall and tan and young and lovely, the girl from Ipanema goes walking_," Galatea sang along.

"_And when she passes, each one she passes says 'ahh'_" Finished Miria.

They sat there for hours, drinking, laughing, talking, singing along. Nothing but a typical Sunday morning.

"You my dear are a bit too tipsy," Galatea whispered into Miria's ear.

"No I'm not," Miria said, her speech growing slower.

"You are such an alcohol addict, the first step is to admit that you have a problem, love," Galatea said, pulling Miria to her feet.

"Dance with me," Galatea placed her head on Miria's shoulder all the while keeping their hands interlaced.

"Ah, madrugada já rompeu Você vai me abandonar Eu sinto que o perdão você não mereceu Eu quis a ilusão agora a dor sou eu" Miria sang softly into Galatea's ear.

"God, Brazilian Portuguese is such a sexy language," Galatea giggled.

"You, my dear, are over sexed," Miria replied.

"I can't help that I'm so..._physical_" Galatea took a small nip at Miria's earlobe which earned her a small squeak from the shocked captain.

"Not tonight dear, my head hurts," Miria chided.

"You know, I could make that headache go away," Galatea said slyly.

"I'm feeling gassy tonight," Miria smirked back.

"Miria! You're such a party pooper!" Galatea whined.

"And that's why our love is mutual," Miria kissed Galatea on the cheek and led her out of the study and into the bedroom.

Needless to say Miria crashed onto the bed, though it only being 4 in the afternoon. Galatea reminded herself not to let Miria drink so much In the future.

_Ladies and gentlemen I hope you have enjoyed my small little slice of GalaMiri as much as I have. Now if one must ask, I am quite the fan of Bossa Nova and with that Joao Gilberto, Antonio Jobim, and Astrud Gilberto. So the title is a namesake of a song by Antonio Jobim who wrote it and released it in 1963. I bid you all good morning, afternoon, and evening._

_Sincerely and with Love, _

_Ken Aurborum Giovanni_


End file.
